


Scars

by the_writer



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Feels, Gen, My First Work in This Fandom, Near Death Experiences, Scars, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:12:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_writer/pseuds/the_writer
Summary: Hidden in the vines with a savage Mr. Manchas screaming above them, had never been on Nick's agenda for the night. While swaying in foliage Nick spots a glint of torn skin on Judy’s cheek. He wants to ask until he finds the marks unnervingly familiar; a mark of a fox’s paw.





	

Thick vines held the pair aloft as Nick struggled for breath, green eyes flickering bright as the memories of the passing action of his near death, the officer next to him grinning dumbly. Nick swayed, remembering the hot breath and sharp fangs grazing his whiskers, as he shifted uncomfortably, his clothes plastered to his fur. The vines creaked softly, the heavy rain blurring his vision, his canine eyes cutting through the dark with ease, green eyes flicking over to the officer next to him. 

Judy was lazing next to him, eyes also wide and tinted with fear, but still strong and determined. Nick liked that about the small rabbit, so emotional and so stubborn. Within the rain, she had started to speak, turning her head this way and that, as the light caught her cheek, her wet grey fur slick as Nick stilled, torn and scarred skin rose and fell in a sickening healed wound, dark with age and what Nick guessed to be the dirt which hadn’t been fully cleaned out at the time of the incident. Nick almost asks, the words on the tip of his tongue when the vines snap, making the fox hold his muzzle shut as he fell. He would have to ask later.

It wasn’t until after the press conference Judy had spoken at did Nick final get to the source of why the scars had haunted him for so long, when Judy had reached for her Fox Spray at the sight of his claws, the violet fear in her wide eyes, unseeing and afraid. But it wasn’t Nick she was afraid of, but of the fox before her. It was instinct, and as Nick walked away from the building, he felt his heart sink. 

It had been his claws that had done such a thing. It had been his red and black fur and greyed claws that had pulled and torn at her cheek. It had been a fox that haunted Judy’s every step, just like the muzzle that haunted Nick’s every nightmare. 

Nick hung his head as he sauntered down a dirt road, slowly coming along a bridge with a view of an abandoned warehouse, his home and abode, alone and bland, no purple eyes in sight, no greyed fur, only a fox with a pen and pair of outstretched claws.


End file.
